


Monsters

by Wispy_Raindrop



Series: Survive, Recover, Live [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Body Horror, Gen, Implied/Referenced Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sadstuck, Time Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:12:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7030342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wispy_Raindrop/pseuds/Wispy_Raindrop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For what can a dark, twisted creature formed from rage and hate be called other than what it is?<br/><i>Monster.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Zoologically Dubious

**Author's Note:**

> This was born from the fact that I've noticed that a lot of the time there's no clear descriptions of what the kids and trolls now look like. So this will be a series of oneshots (which will update whenever one is finished) focused on what exactly these experiments did to them. There will still be some tie-ins to the over-arching storyline though. In terms of the timeline these will take place around the same time as What Is Done To Us (which doesn't really have a set time) unless otherwise stated.  
> Tags will update along with new chapters.  
> I hope you enjoy!

_"I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin. I must confess that I feel like a monster." - Monster by Skillet_

Your name is Rose Lalonde and for once in your life you do not have an explanation.

The cave in which you sit is dark and dreary though you find comfort in its embrace. It cradles you like the mother you've half forgotten used to hold you to her breast and sing slurred lullabies until you fell asleep to the looming swell of thunder. You've always loved the sound and the imagined creatures lurking in the dark spaces that expanded with the dawn of night. Dave wasn't so fond, he was more of a creature of light than you ever were.

But he's joined you in the darkness now, hasn't he?

You don't know what They did, are doing or even what That Place was for. You know the results, of course, for they are carved into the delicate flesh of your body and mind, made evident every time you so much as catch the barest glimpse of one of your companions and friends. But you don't know the _how_ or the _why_ and despite the powers they gifted – _cursed_ – you with you cannot find the answer. It leads you to believe that the answer would not be fortuitous to your group and that thought. Well, frankly that thought is rather disturbing.

Dave sometimes asks you what the point of searching is. It's not like this shit can be reversed. And you know that but you hate the thought that any answer can elude you so thoroughly like this.

And, you will admit in the privacy of your own thoughts, the slightly wistful tone you can hear in his voice when he tells you this makes you really wish the answers you seek can, at least, help him. You know they won't but even so...

You stare at your hand, at the cold paleness that almost matches an untouched blanket of snow. Almost because snow is not quite as colourless as your skin now is. The colour has been leeched from both you and your twin save for your eyes and the extra appendages you have been gifted with. The unnatural white stands out starkly against the drab background you find yourselves in and you swear it almost makes you glow in the dark. (It doesn't, comparisons with Kanaya have proven that but even still you find it eerier than you are comfortable with.)

Your eyesight is better, though, the dark not quite as all-encompassing as it was before. You're pretty sure what you see is on par with the trolls' vision, including the photosensitivity. There's a definite point to your teeth and nails, the latter of which you find the need to file down on the cave walls every few days. The screeching sound grates on your ears as well as Dave's and he will avoid you for a long while afterwards. You try to shove down the small pang of hurt when he walks away as soon as he hears you coming. You used to be so close, always needling each other for the tiniest thing and you wish there was a way to go back to that.

You shouldn't miss your twin as much as you do but solitude and experiments have made you long for the familiar. You see yourself in his face, the same points and curves though his features are gaunt where yours are full. Despite the distance of nine years (he knows, he remembers that and can trace it down to the exact microsecond), your rather obvious status as fraternal twins, and the changes forced on you through all those lost years, you look so alike you could almost pass for each other if you weren't so horribly altered. You wonder if that, too, is the result of what was done to you, if it was their intention to make fraternal into identical with a few 'minor' changes. That thought horrifies you.

Just as horrifying as the whispered voices of the monsters you so loved to read about tickle at the back of your mind and often leave you befuddled. They slither through your brain like the crawling tentacles of the horrors you once enjoyed studying. Befitting, you think, now that you have your own sprawling dark purple appendages spreading out from your hips. Almost like those cecaelia Feferi so liked from your human mythos, save for the fact that you still have your legs even if they are weak and practically useless. You can still feel them, of course, but you can barely stand on them, barely even lift them to adjust your position on the boulder upon which you sit. They hurt all the time and nothing seems to relieve the ache. You've learned to hide it, lest Dave or Kanaya start to worry.

Your tentacles, though, are strong, flexible and while they strangely cannot help you swim they are your new way to manoeuvre. It is not as fun as you once thought it might be and often you'll find yourself awake long into the night as they twitch and fidget as if by their own will.

The new smooth slick skin extends up over your chest and differs so greatly from your body's original skin that still covers the rest of you that you flinch away from any kind of touch. You've noticed that some of the others display similar behaviour but it gives you no comfort.

A soft breeze finds its way to you in the quiet corner of the cave, ruffling your clothes and raising goosebumps on your arms. You wrap your tentacles around your legs like a blanket and sit higher on the stone, attemping to look as poised as possible for your expected guest. Not that he knows that, of course.

The dark shape of John Egbert floats into your line of sight, a large, twisted grin painted on his face. He's a little more solid today than usual, the other cave wall only just visible through what should be his body. His limbs aren't as wispy and his feet, which drift rather close to the ground instead of far away, aren't sweeping away with the wind that surrounds him. Maybe he'll be able to touch someone later. You hope that is the case; you can't remember the last time he was able to.

“Rose! There you are!” he exclaims, voice echoing cheerfully through the cave. “I've been looking for you everywhere!”

You regard him steadily and raise an eyebrow. “Have you now?”

“Yup! Why are you back here anyway? It's really dark back here, Rose, you can barely even see anything!”

Your other eyebrow joins its partner.

John rolls his eyes and waves his hand. It briefly disappears into a soft breeze that toys your hair. “You know what I mean.”

You sigh and shake your head. “What did you need, John?”

“Oh, right!” He moves and sits cross-legged beside you. He doesn't actually touch the rock, an indication he's still not coporeal to interact with things, and you graciously pretend not to notice. “Terezi Saw something and needed your help but she couldn't find you.” He grins. “So she asked me if I could and, being the good friend that I am, said that it would be no problem!”

“John,” you begin as you link your hands together and turn to him, “do you realize how ridiculous that statement is?”

He frowns. “No. Why?”

“You do not see what is wrong with a blind girl that Sees not only the various choices people make and their consequences but can somewhat look into their minds as well asking you to find someone else who can not only see the future but tell when someone is looking for her?” Oh look, it seems your eyebrows have once again been raised. Funny that. “Dare I mention her sense of smell is perhaps even on par with a certain doggish acquaintance we both interact with on a daily basis?”

John's face twists in disgust. “Way to sound like a dictionary, Rose.”

“Think about the question, John.”

He frowns but complies, head tilted to contemplate the rough ceiling of your temporary home. Well, perhaps that's a bit much. If John suddenly started seriously contemplating such things you would really start to worry over the state of your group.

You watch in amusement as he finally seems to get what you are implying. “She already knew you were here!”

“Most likely,” you agree, smirking.

“That- That! Dammit, Terezi!” He almost bursts into a whirling tornado and you flinch away as his razor sharp winds leave cuts and scratches all over your body. He turns to you, perhaps to rant more about the manipulative troll, and immediately sees the wounds. In truth they are relatively minor but that doesn't stop his face from replacing anger with horror. “I- Oh my God, Rose, I'm so sorry!”

You shake your head and lift up a hand to calm him. “It's fine, John.”

“No, it's. It's not-” He floats away, voice as distant as if he was whispering from miles away with only the wind to carry it sweetly to your ear rather than the few feet actually between you. His body is less corporeal now, drifting into wind much more easily and that.

That wasn't your intention.

“I just. Terezi said it was important. S-so...” he trails off, gnawing on his lip as he looks anywhere but at you. “I'll leave you to it.” And with that, he vanishes into a nearly imperceptible breeze.

You sigh and curl up into as tight a ball as you can. Your tentacles jerk and curve around you, running along your arms almost as if to comfort you. Amusing if not slightly disturbing. They are yours, you control them as easily as you do your arms or you eyes yet they still seem to have some mind, some will of their own. Perhaps it is just your imagination running away from you but it's a thought you can't quite shake no matter what you try.

But that's not important right now. Terezi wants your help specifically which means it must have something to do with the future. You need a level head for that.

You straighten and take deep, calming breathes as you clear your mind. It keeps getting easier to do and while Dave worries (really, for someone that affects stoicism and indifference so much he really does worry a lot) it is very useful and it is not a skill you are about to question. Even if it does make the whispers louder, closer to the surface than just a dark undercurrent to your own thoughts.

With a clear head you turn your Sight inward, look for what it is that Terezi might have seen. It won't be exactly the one she saw, you both See different things, but it should give you a decent idea of what to expect when you find her.

The vision suddenly slams into you like a freight train and jerks you from the future that might be. It was a glimpse, you're sure, just a glimpse of what might happen. Of what will happen.

You're panting, suddenly out of breath and sweating though you couldn't have been looking for long enough to be so utterly undone. Could you? Or was the vision just too much?

“Terezi,” you gasp as you slide from the boulder. Your legs give out but your tentacles are enough to support to, to allow you to stand and walk (slither?) to where you are sure the other seer is.

Your heart is pounding, chest tight, and, even as you move towards the Light, you can't help but feel the crushing weight of Time.

 


	2. Temporal Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your name is Aradia Megido and everything is okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this to be longer by Dave didn't want to ramble and Aradia isn't into prose like Rose so it's shorter than the first chapter. I also ended up adding in plot related to the previous chapter so new ones might focus around this too. Maybe.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

“ _She is free in her wildness, she is a wanderess, a drop of free water. She knows nothing of borders and cares nothing for rules or customs. 'Time' for her isn't something to fight against. Her life flows clean, with passion, like fresh water.” - Roman Payne_

 

Your name is Aradia Megido and everything is okay.

Well, you suppose it isn't, really, but you don't have any particularly strong emotions about this situation. Or anything, for that matter. Whatever Those People did to you seems to have taken that ability away. Your friends keep looking at you in sympathy and guilt, asking how you are and giving you reassurances. You keep telling them they are unnecessary but they never listen to you. Sollux especially fusses over you and tries to help you feel something, anything. You appreciate the thought behind it but it is starting to grate on your nerves.

You suppose it must stem from the flushed flirting the two of you engaged in when you were younger, before you were taken and all your lusii killed. But those feelings are long gone, crushed and stripped bare in much the same way your bodies were taken apart and torn open and raggedly put back together like modified pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. You think he might have moved on now but you're not sure. You hope he has, for his sake if nothing else.

After all, you are sure to die long before you can feel again.

This doesn't really bother you though. It should, you suppose, but you don't actually seem to have the capacity for it anymore. It's not a real issue, anyway. Plenty of your friends can care about it instead.

You gaze down from your mountain perch at the frozen forest below you, a thick white blanket cradling the world before an untimely demise. Your red, translucent wings twitch in the cold and you sigh, adjusting the cloak Kanaya made for you to tuck them in. You don't like it, it makes them feel cramped and it itches like crazy, but you'd rather not lose them to the cold. They are rather useful for travel and they don't put a strain on your thinkpan like everything else does now. There is too much in there lately to risk headaches like Sollux.

You walk along the ledge you stand on, right false gander bulb scanning and zooming in on the winter landscape. You have yet to see anything but Terezi seemed rather worried, which you've come to understand is not a good sign. The whispers of the deceased all but confirm it. You don't yet see anything of note but the voices are insistent that this location is the best. You just have to wait.

It's times like these, however, that almost make you wish your other gander bulb was mechanical as well. It would improve your vision immensely and cut down time on unnecessary searching. Time. As if you weren't made of it.

You don't really think more cybernetics will be all that helpful, anyway. They certainly haven't made your body much stronger. You raise your right hand, staring at the dull, scratched metal of the artificial limb. Your left leg is the same as well as a large chunk of your torso that extends all the way up your right side to the base of your horn. Your body is a mish-mash of organic and synthetic and you're not entirely sure what's natural to you or not. Most of your organs probably aren't but you have no desire to check.

Well, not since the first time you ripped out your heart. There isn't another one to replace it with, anyway.

You are rather fortunate compared to your companions, though. You might be irrevocably altered but at least your body still belongs to you. For all the cybernetics and synthetics wired through you, despite your debilitating abilities and the fairy-like wings, it still feels right. Whole despite it's brokenness. You can step out in a city without fear of consequence if you so chose. As long as you don't move above your expected station, no one need know you were ever any different than now and at most you will be treated as just another rust blood. And that's fine, you're used to that.

The others are not, though. Every day you see them try to do things they remember but are no longer capable of, see them dip into nightmares or struggle with their new abilities, new bodies. Quite a few seem unable to adapt to their new life. Or maybe they are just unwilling. You can think of at least one troll like that among you.

But you guess it's still early. You were in there for several sweeps, subject to Their will. Most of that time was spent strapped to a table and there was very little time spent on adjusting, on examining the full extent of all of your abilities. It was probably because it wasn't too long after your transformation had been completed before you were able to escape, before you were able to get everyone out. Those People certainly seemed eager to see what you could do but you didn't exactly wait to find out why.

Sometimes you wonder if you should have helped everyone escape. Perhaps some of them would have been better there.

A dark shape crests the horizon, soaring up into the clouds as it circles towards you. You take off yourself, lifting with your telekinesis rather than your cold wings, and move to a wider platform. It is slightly more out of sight and it will be easier for you to remain hidden if you are both on solid ground. Not that it will really matter soon but you suppose it's best to not expose your hand too soon.

You land just as Dave reaches you, great black wings beating smoothly to keep him airborne. He hovers for a moment and clicks his tongue before carefully dropping to the ground. His wings flutter and he rolls his shoulders as if trying to shrug off a great weight. You're not sure how heavy they might be. Your own wings are barely noticeable to you but he always seems awkward and annoyed by his.

“See anything yet?” he asks and you shake your head.

“No, but Terezi and Rose are hardly ever wrong.” You walk to the edge and return to scanning the ground. “Have you?”

“Nope,” he snorts and you can tell he's smirking without having to look, “but try ten-oh-one-and-fifteen.”

You frown. You assume Dave means the direction you are facing is twelve so you turn to the left. Dave's way of indicating direction is terrible if you're being honest but your internal clock at least keeps you informed of where the times would be as he describes them. He's only ever that specific with you and you guess it's because of your relationship with Time. It's the same as his and maybe he feels some connection to you because of this. Oh well, it doesn't matter in the end.

You pinpoint the direction Dave pointed out and scan over it carefully. It's hard with the thick foliage blocking your view of the ground but the sky is clear and the snow makes it easier to see anything out of the ordinary.

Soon enough you spot the dark outfits of patrolling trolls and rabid barkbeasts pulling at their chains. The trolls wear no colour or any identifying marks, not even an indication of blood caste. No troll goes without their symbol and colour displayed unless they want to move under the radar.

“I see them,” you tell Dave as you track their movements.

He comes to stand next to you, hands in his pockets as he bumps his shoulder into yours. “They who we're looking for?”

“Yes. They are moving towards the cave system.” And they'll be there soon. The barkbeasts have obviously caught some scent they are interested in and you doubt it's some wild animal. They seem too eager for that.

Dave sighs and backs away from the cliff. “Well, let's go then.”

You frown and turn to him. “It is not yet time to go back.”

“Nah, we're not going back now.” He smirks and stretches his wings. “We'll need a distraction, right?”

For the first time since you were four sweeps old, you grin.

 


End file.
